


Sweet On You

by Raptorlily



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Cooking, Cupcakes, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, Unresolved Romantic Tension, kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10618551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptorlily/pseuds/Raptorlily
Summary: Pure unbridled fluff and slice of life fic set somewhere between 1.04 and 1.05. Betty and Jughead tool around in the kitchen. Betty realizes that maybe her feelings for Jughead are more than friendly.There’s cupcakes.





	

Betty Cooper was on her sixth cup of coffee that day and instead of it kicking in with a buzz, it was having the opposite effect. She could barely keep her eyes open as she puttered around her family kitchen, opening and closing cupboards, looking for the baking powder that her mother swore was somewhere in the house because she put it on _her list_ last week and if it had been on her _list_ last week, that meant she bought it and clearly _somebody_ must've misplaced it and needed to take better care of keeping things tidy and organized if they intended on keeping their privileges.

Clambering up on the counter, she pulled out the tupperware container of regular, inorganic spices (labeled, of course) again to check the back shelf and swore when the plastic lid went crashing to the ground with a loud rattle.

"Are you there, Betty?"  Veronica Lodge was on speaker phone on the kitchen island, nestled safely between the roll of wax paper and the cupcake trays. "It sounds like you're fighting a battle over there. Should I dispatch reinforcements? Spotify Hans Zimmer?"

The tin of Dr. Oeker’s Baking Powder bumped to a stop at Betty’s white tennis shoe. Blowing a strand of her out of her face with an upturned lip, she bent to pick it up. "Sorry, Ron. I'm multi-tasking, but I'm listening."

"Don’t take this the wrong way, B, but when _aren't_ you multi-tasking?" Betty could picture Veronica shaking her head. "Come out with us tonight. Kev is giving me the townie tour and him, me and Nancy are heading over to Greendale for a house party.  The guy's name is--I'm not kidding you-- _Streaky Shore_."

"Yeah, Streaks is kind of a local legend around here,” Betty smiled. Veronica often seemed to forget she was a local girl.  “Apparently, his parents travel a lot for work and got sick of his parties trashing their actual house, so now he lives in their boathouse."

" _Boathouse_?"

"You know, like a garage for boats with rooms on the top floor."  Maybe they didn’t have those in New York?  Last week, Ron asked what a ‘meat raffle’ was. The week before that, Kevin had to explain the rules of padiddle and that a ‘two-sixer’ meant a 26 oz bottle of alcohol.

"I know what a boathouse is,” Veronica replied, exasperated. “I'm just expressing mock incredulity slash delight because I’ve never partied in a boathouse before and I demand that you be there to christen my experience.”

"I can't. It's a school night."

"Oh, come _on_ , B! You told me this morning your parents are pulling an all-nighter at the Reg tonight. Your gaoler's gone. She left you a key. Let's _go_."

Betty sucked in her bottom lip. She couldn't say that she wasn't tempted. Opportunities for unbridled freedom were scarce in the Cooper household. Polly used to take every advantage of crunch nights to slip off to hang out with her friends. Even if nothing exciting was happening that same night, her sister would _make_ something happen. That was one of the perks of being on the squad. Being a cheerleader meant anywhere you went was the place for others to be.

Betty used to daydream about having that kind of social sway. Of being cool enough to hang out with girls like Cheryl Blossom and her ilk, being able to stand around at parties dressed in her cheerleading uniform, all eyes on her, Archie Andrews on her arm, sipping on spiked punch on a school night...

But one glance at her laptop bag at the kitchen table and the stack of baking supplies on the counter quickly burst that bubble. Cheerleading squad or not, a newfound friendship with newest it-girl Veronica Lodge or not, Jughead was due to come over any minute now to work on their candidate piece for the student council election and Betty Cooper was still Betty Cooper.  

"I really wish I could,” she sighed, finishing up stacking the rest of the Tupperware back into the cupboard. “But I'm swamped. Between the squad and the paper and now this stupid bake-sale, I'm behind in all my classes. I have a science lab due tomorrow that I haven't even touched yet."

Veronica groaned.

"Ok, you are **not** ditching us for homework and a charity bake-off. Just… tell me you have a secret boyfriend or something."

Betty rolled her eyes. "I do not have a secret boyfriend."

"You sure?" Veronica sounded skeptical. "Because you know I would sleep a little better if you did. I've barely seen you all week and I hate the idea of you buried under nothing but work. We're young, Betty. We need to live a little. Break some hearts. _Move on_ from heartbreaks.”

Well, _that_ was subtle.

Betty pressed her lips together. She was really starting to resent the fact that both Kevin and Veronica seemed convinced that her being ‘busy’ was just a euphemism for her staying in and nursing a broken heart.  Like there was nothing out there for her now that the cat was out of the bag and the boy she’d been crushing on didn’t like her back.

She picked up the phone and clicked it off speaker. 

"This isn't some Archie thing,” she said, lowering her voice even though nobody was around to overhear.  From the kitchen window, she could see the TV on in the Andrews’ den but no one in the room. Fred was either grabbing himself a beer or making dinner. It was too early for Archie to be home. These days, if he wasn't at football practise after school, he was in the music room rehearsing with the Pussycats. 

"I know,” Veronica said carefully. “But to be fair, Boy Orange is juggling a lot too and even he’s finding some time to be semi-social.”

Something lightly tightened and then released in Betty’s chest. “You mean Valerie.”

 “Yes." There was no hesitation this time. "Are you fine with that? I mean, after what happened and then that Grundy thing…”

“I’ve known Archie my entire life, Ron. ” Betty sighed and turned around to lean against the sink. “I’ve seen him date multiple girls and he’s always moved on pretty quickly. I’m not taking it personally.”

She _really_ didn't want to think about the Grundy thing (because God, who even wanted to?) and whatever was happening between Archie and Josie’s right-hand girl was still in its infancy, but the attraction was obvious.  They’d been spending almost every non-school, football or Pussycat-oriented minute of the day together. Earlier that week, Betty walked in on them sitting in the student lounge going over musical notations. They were pressed so close and so focused on one another that they didn't even notice Betty in the room with them until the vending machine dispensed her soda can with a mood-killing death rattle and they turned around to find her frozen mid bend-and-reach, the colour high in her cheeks.

It... sucked to see it, but that was the other thing about small towns. The dating pool was a puddle. You had to get comfortable with the fact that everyone was going to be an ex or an almost for more than a few people. Hoping your relationship was the exception was fatal to the heart.  

Especially if you were hoping for someone was as sweet and handsome as Archie.

“That’s not what I asked,” Veronica said gently.

Betty chewed on the edge of her fingernail. The pain was still there, but it was more of a dull ache instead of the initial gaping horror of an open wound. If Betty were honest with herself, and she generally tried to be, it was more the fallout of fourteen years of friendship she’d dreaded. Archie not returning her feelings wasn’t anything new. He was now just… aware of them.  And as the days continued to fill in between the now and that awful night of the back-to-school dance, Betty found herself wishing that she'd said something sooner. She would have been over it by now.  Chaining herself to the hope that a declaration of love could’ve changed things between them only closed her off to other people, other possibilities. She'd fancied herself in love with him for so long, it was almost a safety blanket.

“It bombs that he didn’t give us a chance,” she allowed, shrugging off the familiar tentacle of rejection threatening to coil its way around her heart. “But maybe… maybe it was for the best.  We’re in such different places right now.” _We’re different people_ , a small part of her silently added. “We barely see each other. I barely see anybody.”

"Except for Punky Brewster." Veronica's eyebrow raise was implicit. “I wasn't aware that l'eau de cheeseburger and garage band flannel would do it for you."

"What?" Betty went rigid and something whooshed down her spine. "No! It’s not like that at all.”  

"Really?  I could’ve sworn I’ve been picking up on some Dan/Serena vibes.”

“You’ve been binging _Gossip Girl_ on Netflix again, haven’t you?”  Trashy teen dramas were to Veronica as pretentious Film Noir was to Jughead. Betty shook her head. “We’re _just_ friends.”  

Veronica let out a patented Veronica Lodge Dramatic Sigh™

"So then it IS all work and no play for you, after all,” she declared woefully and Betty grinned, picturing her friend dropping loose knuckles to forehead. “I'm crushed. Are you sure, B?”  Veronica poured sugar into her plea. “One little house party? Kev says he's forgotten what you look like."

"Sorry, Ronnie,” Betty replied, giving the kitchen another appraising sweep. The stove clock was showing 6:28 PM and she realized she allowed herself to get distracted. “Say ‘hi’ to Streaky for me.”

“All right, fine,” Veronica relented. “You’ll just have to live vicariously through our snapchats, then!  I’m going to go get ready. I talked Mom into lending me her Jimmy Choo's for the night. I’ll send before and after pictures. Kiss, kiss!”

“Kiss, kiss!” Betty echoed, smiling at her friend’s mock appropriation of Cheryl’s latest cheer practice sign-off.  “Have fun!” 

She hung up the phone and put on the kettle for tea and went to work with assembling the ingredients needed for the recipe.  Veronica had thought that she and Jughead were... _Ridiculous_.  She shook her head. While it was true that the two of them had been spending an inordinate amount of time together lately—possibly even more time than Val and Archie—but at least Betty knew Archie liked girls and was interested in dating them. Jughead took his lone-wolfery rather seriously and she didn't know anyone cagier about his relationships. 

No. Fresh off the unrequited love boat, Betty knew better than to exchange one voyage to heartbreak for another. Jughead wasn't interested. And neither she was. Like she told Veronica, they were _just friends._

Betty was on her second mug and third batch of cupcakes when her phone chimed again. This time, it wasn’t another picture of her newest friend in her burgundy, silk shirt dress and thigh-highs. It was a message from Jughead.

**Jughead. **6.43 pm****

**Here**

Her heart gave a weird little swoop. Ignoring it, she wiped her hands on the back of her jeans and picked up the phone to reply.

**Me. **6.43 pm****

**come around the back. door’s open :-)**

Usually, they held their meetings at the Blue & Gold offices but with her parents out for the night and cupcakes to bake, Betty decided to indulge in a bit of rebellion in the name of convenience and save herself a bit of time. Persons of the male persuasion were strictly prohibited in the Cooper household after her mother caught Jason in Polly’s room with the door closed a few months ago. But since there was never any danger of her and Jughead ever rolling around on top of her bed, if her mother were to suddenly burst through the door, Betty reasoned that hosting a fellow journalist and ardent student in her kitchen was only a minor infraction.

The sound of the backdoor opening pulled her out of her reverie and she turned to see Jughead skulk in, his laptop bag tucked under his arm and messenger bag dragging at his feet.  He had changed out of his school clothes from earlier, exchanging plaid for a soft-looking charcoal knit sweater and dark jeans. The dark curls peeping from out of his signature beanie looked a little wet, like he’d showered recently.

“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered. “I kind of lost track of time and I….”

“No worries,” Betty chirped, a bit too brightly. “I’m running a bit behind too. You can set up on the table, if you’d like.”

Jughead looked around the kitchen in confusion, taking in the clutter and products on the counters. He cocked a brow at her. “…You’re, uh, baking?”

“Yeah, it looks that way.” She smiled, also a bit too brightly. What was the matter with her? “I'm just on my last batch. You can have any of the cupcakes from the reject pile.”

Jughead craned his neck in interest, gaze zeroing in on the indicated plate heaped high with golden brown lumps, and ah, yes, this was the same Jughead Jones she’d always known. He never turned down a free meal. She watched as he rolled up his sleeve, plucked one from the top of the pile and bit into it with all the discerning flair and puffery of a sommelier sampling a vintage. He finished chewing, swallowed and then contemplatively looked over the remainder of the confection in his hand.

She arched a brow. "That bad, huh?"

"Actually, I think this is the single best cupcake I've ever tasted," he blinked back down at it, surprised. "And it doesn't have any frosting on it yet."

He popped the other half of the cupcake in his mouth and turned back around to help himself to another one and then, almost in after-thought, one more.  

Betty blushed (why?) and looked down to measure out the brown sugar. "No offense, Juggie, but you think Pop's Texas Chilli Cheese Fries are the height of cuisine."

"Convince me otherwise,” he replied carelessly. He bit into his next cupcake and his eyes rolled back into his head with a groan. “Seriously, though. What do you have against these? They’re delicious!”

Her cheeks were flaming by now. "They turned out a little dry. I always underestimate how many eggs I need with coconut flour. I can make them better.”

"Really? I didn't even know you baked."  

"Yeah, it's something Grams and I still do together sometimes," Betty smiled shyly, tucking a strand of blonde behind her ear. She thought of rainy Sunday afternoons and the yellow polka dot curtains in her grandmother's kitchen. "She was the one who taught me how to cook. I can make a mean lemon chicken piccata, if I do say so myself!"

"Lemon chicken piccata, huh? If its anywhere as good as these cupcakes, I’m inviting myself over for dinner.”

“You can have some dinner now if you’re hungry,” Betty said, moving on to prep the liquid ingredients. “There’s left over lasagna in the fridge and the oven’s on.”

Jughead looked at her as if she’d just handed him a lifetime supply of Pop’s burgers.   

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She waved a hand at him. “My parents usually grab Thai on publication night and the lasagna won’t be as good tomorrow.”

“Betty Cooper, you spoil me,” he declared eagerly, bounding over to the stainless-steel refrigerator and pulling out the indicated tupperware container. “Did you make this too?”

He popped the lid and took a whiff of the contents.

“Actually, yeah I did," Betty smiled. "I usually make extra and freeze it for emergency meals. It’s probably not as good as fresh, but…”

“You gotta stop selling yourself so short all the time,” he interrupted as she handed him the casserole dish he could use for the oven. “This smells amazing. And cold food isn’t supposed to smell amazing.”

She lowered her eyes shyly, her body buzzing warm and light at the compliment. “You’re ridiculous. Didn’t you just come back from Pop’s?”

He always headed to the Choklit Shoppe after school and took his usual order. Two burgers, fries, and a double-chocolate milkshake, extra whipped cream. If he was writing in his booth, two cups of black coffee left to cool at his elbow.

“Yeah,” Jughead said, like it wasn’t anything. “I’m a growing boy, Betts. Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson needs to eat ten pounds of cod a day to maintain his physique. I need about that much in artery-clogging goodness to maintain mine.”

He bent over to stick the casserole dish in the oven and, seemingly of their own accord, Betty’s eyes flicked over to appraise said ‘physique.’ 

As kids, Jughead had always seemed dotingly fragile to Betty, who once proudly bore the title of the tallest out of the Archie, Betty and Jughead trio. And while Archie had been steadily growing broader, taller and more like Apollo-like since the ninth grade, it seemed Jughead was destined to remain all elbows and bony knees, always looking like he really did need that extra helping of burgers and fries, no matter how many they’d seen him pack away. Everyone was so used to thinking of him as sexless and weird beanpole Jones and he did such a good job of staying out of their way, they hadn’t bothered to notice it wasn’t exactly true anymore.

Archie wasn’t the only one puberty had bludgeoned over the head this summer.

To say that Jughead filled out considerably wouldn’t aptly describe the change; he was now the tallest of the three and, while it wasn’t clear when or how, he’d left behind ‘painfully thin’ and ‘skinny’ and settled somewhat comfortably between ‘wiry’ and ‘slender.’  It wasn’t apparent underneath the layers of plaid, hoodies and denim he always favoured, but in a form-fitting sweater, Betty took in the evidence for the first time, eyes drifting over broad shoulders, the slight but visible muscular curvature of his arms, back and chest.  She felt warmth build somewhere deep inside and spread up quickly to her cheeks.

Jughead turned around and he seemed to have caught her staring, because his face turned just as red as her own.

 “You OK, Betts? You just went super fire hydrant.”

“I did?” She touched her cheeks. “Oh, um, the oven. It sometimes gets really hot in here. Let me get the window.”

 _Nice save, Cooper_ , she thought, throwing open the pane over the sink and taking in a gulp of late evening air. She was behaving like a school girl with a crush and it was all Veronica’s fault. She planted the idea—the possibility, though there really wasn’t one—into her head that there might be something more to the two of them spending time together, and now it was bearing strange fruit.

Because sure, the puberty fairy finally paid Jug a visit, but nothing else had changed. He was still the same boy she’d known since she was six years old.  He leaned away when people hugged him and frowned more often than he smiled. She and Archie were the only two people he seemed comfortable around. He was… complicated and she didn't need complicated. Especially  not with this new Archie-shaped void in her life.

No, it was best if she could keep things strictly…

“Platonic,” Betty said breezily as she turned back around.

Jughead’s brows shot up into the brim of his beanie and this time, Betty went cold all over. 

“Um, sorry.” Her tongued fumbled around in her mouth for a moment and she speed-walked to the counter to pick up where she left off with the eggs, milk and butter. “My brain just short-circuited there for a second. I haven’t really been getting much sleep.”

 “Yeah, you’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately,” Jughead agreed, watching her carefully. He shoved his hands into his pockets.  “But uh—I just asked if you wanted help with anything while I wait for my lasagna.”

 “Oh, um—sure! You can get started on the frosting. Mixer, sugar and softened butter are on the counter over there. Let me just grab the food colouring and strawberry preserves.”

She collected the mentioned items from the fridge and the cupboard and then joined him as he stood looking around for a socket for the mixer. She pointed it out and she stiffened when he reached around her to plug it in, his body heat caressing her back.

 Good _lord_ , Cooper, she thought. Get a grip.

"So,” Jughead said, moving away from her again. “Are you going to explain why we're baking cupcakes instead of working on the paper?"

"They're for Ethel," Betty replied, taking careful note of the aggrieved flicker in his expression as she said the name. Not too long ago, its very utterance was synonymous with ‘drop everything and run away flailing’ and if that didn’t perfectly illustrate Jughead’s attitude about unwanted advances from the opposite sex, there was little else to say. "Her youth group is having a bake sale tomorrow before school and she asked me for help."

Jughead dumped the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl and flicked the mixer onto low. He looked annoyed. “Why couldn't she have asked someone else?"

"Because... she didn't exactly ask.” Betty bit her lip, moving back to her side of the kitchen and picking up where she left off with the eggs for the third and final time. “I sort of… offered."

“Oh my God, Betts.”  Jughead lolled his head to fix her with look. “This is like the sixth-grade science fair all over again.”

Determined to get the most Riverdale students into the county finals and beat Central Middle School, she had taken it upon herself to help everyone in their class with their entries. In the end, Riverdale Elementary earned a record amount of blue ribbons, but none of them for Betty, who had been laid out sick from exhaustion and never even made it to the fair.

"I know, I know,” Betty exploded a sigh, tossing the eggshells in the compost bin and then moving to whisk the liquid ingredients together. “I said it without thinking. Ethel was worried about getting things gluten-free but still edible and before I realized what was happening, I was telling her I'd be happy to make her five batches of wheat-free strawberry cupcakes!" She shook her head. “I have like, a million things to do. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You want my diagnosis?”

 “I’ll probably regret it, but OK.” Betty wiped her cheek with the back of her sleeve and because it was Jughead, she braced herself for something either sarcastic or stupid.

Jughead looked at her. "You were taken in by the red hair and freckles.”

Ah. Stupid, this time.  

She glared at him. He shrugged. 

“Face it, Betts. You have a type. I mean, you've been helping Archie with his math homework since the second grade. The last couple of weeks, you've been trying to do Jason a solid and find his murderer, and now apparently, you're a cupcake artiste for Ethel.”

 "That's…. just… an uncanny coincidence.”

“Maybe.” He shut off the mixer and swiped a finger under the frosting-coated beater and waggled his brows at her.  “Or maybe gingers are your kryptonite.”

He licked his finger clean and grinned.

Betty tilted her head. Wait a second. Was Jughead Jones… _flirting_ with her?

"Oh yeah?” She challenged. “And what’s the chink in _your_ armor, hot shot? Food and Tarantino movies?”

“You better believe it!” Jughead helped himself to another glob of sugary confectionary. " _Kill Bill_ and Sustenance – the only way to a man's heart!"

He offered the paddle to her next like a peace offering. Betty stared at it begrudgingly for a moment, before reaching out and deliberately swiping up a generous helping of the frosting, daring him to protest. There was a strange crackle in the air between them that made her whole body tingle pleasurably.  

She watched Jughead’s throat work as she licked up her share of the icing, and thought, yeah, they were definitely flirting.

"As I recall, Ethel once brought you a whole bakery box of chocolate brownies for Valentine's Day and you spent the whole day avoiding her," she said 

 “That I did.”

 “You could’ve just said you weren’t interested.”

“I did that too. Many, many, _many_ times.” Jughead took the icing paddle back and comforted himself by cleaning off the last of the icing. “The girl was _relentless._ ”

Betty smirked. She still remembered his wide-eyed look when he stumbled into the Riverdale elementary library and begged her to hide him. Taking pity, Betty had stuffed him under her study carrel but made the fatal mistake of not hiding his backpack with him. When Ethel bounced in looking for him a few minutes later, Betty had an awkward time explaining what she was doing with Jughead Jones’ belongings if she hadn’t seen him all day and had no idea where he’d be later. 

Ethel, of course, wasn’t convinced. She stuck around to wait for him and poor Juggie had to spend his free period curled up on the floor with Betty’s sneakered feet tucked under his side. Betty felt so bad for him, she discreetly slipped him the little baggie of cinnamon hearts she’d gotten from Archie just so he’d have something to do. 

Betty shook her head and finished portioning the batter into the cupcake trays.  “Well, I thought her crush on you was really sweet.”

“If by ‘sweet’ you mean ‘soul-sucking.’” Jughead rolled his eyes. He dumped the mixing paddles in the sink and then went to pull his reheated lasagna out of the oven as Betty swept in to replace it with cupcake trays. “We played spin the bottle at Nancy Wood’s twelfth birthday party and after that, she spent the rest of the year following me around, convinced we were meant to be.”

“You kissed her?”  Betty was surprised, by both the revelation and the tinge of chagrin in her voice. “I don’t remember that!”

Jughead gave her an odd look. He dug around for a fork in the utensil drawer. “You had strep throat and couldn’t come.”

 “Right,” she said. That must’ve been around the time she and Polly had spent two weeks parked on living room couch in front of the TV, surrounded by an orbit of empty mugs and used kleenex tissues, watching Leonardo DiCaprio movies.  “Still,” she added, doing her best to beat back her sudden jealousy at the idea of Jughead making out with anyone in Nancy’s basement, “that must’ve been one _hell_ of a kiss.”

 “More like a super-villain origin story.”  Jughead stabbed into his food and Betty wondered if _his_ super powers also included not burning his mouth on steaming-hot food in addition to not having a single calorie stick to him.  “Did you know she cut up pictures of me, her and a bridal magazine and made us a wedding album out of her Hilroy binder? It was a move straight out of 'How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days.'  I don't know how it could've been any clearer that film was about the crap _you’re not supposed to do_."

Betty shook her head. She felt bad speaking ill about the Ethel, since the girl she knew now was rather sweet, but she understood why her middle-school counterpart had pushed all of Jughead’s buttons.

"Maybe she didn’t see the movie,” she offered, not being able to help the sneaky smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “But I’m kind of impressed you did.”

Jughead gave her a flat look. "I don't know if you know this, Betty, but I used to work at a Drive-In."

"Right.” She jostled his shoulder and picked up her own fork, helping herself to his plate. “And you're only familiar with classic rom-coms because you operated the projector, not because you secretly enjoy them or anything.”

Jughead rolled his eyes.

"Oh no. You've found me out." He took another wolf-y bite of the lasagna and jokingly turned his back so she wouldn’t have access (but Betty swooped in from the other side and triumphantly stole a bite). “I'm a sucker for Kate Hudson and Katherine Heigl."

“So… blondes.”

“Hmm?”

“Blonde. That’s _your_ type.” Betty clarified. “Hudson, Heigl...your obsession with Hitchcock and film noir… It’s obvious! You’d totally go for a blonde." She leaned in close. "Especially if she cooked.”

Jughead stopped mid-chew and he actually blushed. Hard. His neck and ears were red. Betty flushed too, realizing what she had just said and took a careful step back.

There was a long beat, but Jughead was the first to recover.

“Yeah. Too bad I don’t know any.” He looked down and pushed the food around on his plate. “Your lasagna sucks, Cooper.”

Betty grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write something to shake off my writer's block and get out of my overzealous edit-as-I-write mode before I tackled the next chapter for 'And Other Collisions.' So if you're waiting for that, it's coming! I hope this makes up for it somewhat. (I'm not entirely happy with it, but if I didn't post it now, it'd probably end up in my scrapped fic folder). 
> 
> Thoughts and Comments always appreciated.


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